


try and do me wrong

by crookedspoon



Series: JayDick Flashfic [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Extremely Dubious Consent, Facials, Frottage, Immobility, Jason Todd is Robin, M/M, Objectification, POV Jason Todd, Tumblr: JayDick Flash Fanwork Challenge, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 19:42:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20533541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: Talon wakes up in its nest. It is not alone.





	try and do me wrong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kess/gifts).

> Written for the prompt "Cold Case" at jaydick flashfic. Since I cannot write casefic to save my life, I got creative interpreting "cold case" as "refrigeration unit," although I'm sorry for the lack of industrial freezers and dead fish, Kess. Also fills "Careful What You Wish For" from my Bad Things Happen Bingo card.
> 
> Fair warning, in real life the scene depicted herein would be considered rape since Talon cannot give consent and Jason can't read his mind. Since it's written from Talon's POV, however, and he quite enjoys what happens, I opted for tagging this with dubcon. I also tagged it with "Objectification" because Talon refers to both himself and to Jason as "it." I'm probably using the word wrong, but now you know.

Talon is no longer sleeping. The cold comfort of its crib has been breached. It senses something here, in its nest that it returns to every night when the sky is graying. Or did return to every night, before it had been put on ice, to sleep for many nights without leaving.

The lid of its crib has been removed. Its nest is cool, though warmer than the casket where it has been sleeping death-like sleep until but moments before. It had been injured and required healing; now it feels the life-giving burn of chemicals searing through its veins. Its masters must be in need of its services again.

Talon waits.

That is the hardest part. It wants to serve but is unable to. Its limbs are frozen, its skin unfeeling, its thoughts slow to return.

But it can listen.

Its nest is silent like suspended time unless its masters come to wake it or its brethren. One of them must be here now. A warm body is leaning over it, as though inspecting if it had woken already. Talon can give no sign.

Something hot touches its neck and warmth prickles out over its skin. There's a sharp intake of breath, and the pressure is gone. The hot touch resurfaces at its temple and eyelid, and pain stabs through its eye socket as vision springs to life. 

It winks out just as fast, but Talon got a glimpse of dark curls and a mask and bright colors against the starkness of the stone walls. It's the little Robin Talon has watched so often in its sleep.

"Shit, you're still alive?" the little Robin's voice asks. Talon cannot answer. "How is that possible? Batman had done you in so good, I thought for sure you were toast." It huffs in wry amusement. "Guess you can't hear me, huh?"

A snap explodes by its ear. It's loud. Talon can hear just fine.

"So this is what they call suspended animation," it says, more to itself. "I wonder if this will help."

Weight settles on Talon and it's warm, so warm, Talon's skin shudders with the sudden heat of it. The weight shifts and turns and stretches itself out on top of Talon's body. Something soft is tickling its chin as the little Robin finds a comfortable position to rest its head, its hands grasping Talon's shoulders, and it heartbeat knocking against Talon's chest, coaxing its own to follow.

"Fuck, you're cold."

The little Robin wriggles and moves, and it makes the chemicals in Talon's blood work faster. Hot breath ghosts against the skin of its neck and over its jaw to its face. The little Robin hovers there for a moment, air rattling through its pretty throat as it sucks it in shakily. Talon wants to choke it, feel its little Adam's apple bob against its palm as it squeezes, squeezes, squeezes...

"Fuck it," the little Robin says and the curse is like a singsong to Talon's ears.

The little Robin's lips descend upon Talon's. They're soft and warm and eager, and the calloused digits stroking over Talon's cheeks almost makes them feel like they are heating.

Talon cannot tell if the little Robin is dissatisfied with the lack of response it gets. Talon would like to show it just how responsive it can be. It's sure the little Robin would like it.

Too soon, the warmth of its lips leave Talon. Its weight settles on Talon's chest as it sits up. There's a rustle of fabric, a clink of metal against metal, the hiss of a zipper.

The little Robin shoves out a breath, and a moment later, something hot and smooth rubs against Talon's lips, coating them with a salty fluid. The little Robin groans and the sound fills the emptiness of Talon's nest.

Talon would smile if it could. It is the same sound that falls from the little Robin's lips when it touches itself beneath its covers. Talon has watched it often in the night, following it to its school and perching outside its dorm room window, waiting. What it is waiting for is unclear – for the little Robin to shed its colorful plumage, for it to notice Talon on its perch, for it to turn out its lights so they can be together in darkness – Talon has no preference as long as it can watch.

It would like to watch now, too, but all it can do is listen like it does at night, outside the little Robin's window.

What a beautiful singing voice it has. So desperate and almost pained. 

The heady scent of sweat, warm skin, and arousal wafts across Talon's nostrils as the little Robin continues to brush against Talon's lips, its nose, its cheeks. Talon might have liked to inhale it deeper. Its fingers and feet and its entire skin is tingling with returning feeling, but it cannot control its lungs yet.

The little Robin is snapping its hips faster now, as if jockeying for something just within its reach. It seems to be getting closer because its breathing is picking up, too, and the little whines it utters are short and pointed.

Talon can only imagine how cute it must look, with its pale cheeks stained red, its hair mussed, and its pretty mouth parted and wet.

The little Robin's hips stop thrusting and its hot length on Talon's face disappears. Instead, the little Robin jerks itself with its hand. Currents of air lap against Talon's jaw as it tugs his slick skin faster and faster.

Just a little bit more. Talon can almost feel its motor functions return.

With a loud groan, the little Robin splashes thick and hot across Talon's face. 

Talon flicks its eyes open.

The little Robin is curved over it and catching its breath, its short curls falling over its glistening brow. The white-out lenses make it hard to tell if it has its eyes squeezed shut or if it is holding Talon's gaze in contemplation.

It must have had its eyes closed, because it gives a little start and curses, as if it had just noticed Talon staring.

"Fuck, you're like Sleeping Beauty, only creepier," it says, without sounding creeped out about its observation.

Talon stretches the edges of its mouth into a smile.

Its heart is beating strong and steady again, pumping live-restoring chemicals through its body. It tingles and burns, but it only means that soon, Talon can move again. It wills a finger to crook, and crook it does.

The little Robin tucks its little pecker away, zips up, and buckles its utility belt. Talon licks its lips. It wants to touch the little Robin, pet its hair, and coo to it as it shreds its little body to even littler pieces.

The little Robin moves, first into a crouch, then up to stand, then it plants a foot to step outside Talon's crib. Talon doesn't want it to go yet. It likes the little Robin and wants to play with it some more. This time, on its own terms.

It takes effort, but Talon manages to grab the little Robin's ankle.

"You want something?" the little Robin asks, as it stops and puts its fists on its hips.

"Up," Talon tells it.

"You want me to help you up?"

"Yes," Talon says, drawing out the sibilant.

The little Robin smirks, does a quick look-around, and, when nothing suspicious catches its eye, kneels down in Talon's crib again.

It hooks its arms around Talon and drags it into a sitting position. Talon's body protests against bending its spine before it is fully awake, fully flexible again. Talon ignores it; it has endured worse pains before it fell asleep. 

It takes the little Robin several moments to heave Talon upright, until Talon is propped up against its crib, the edge digging into its back. The little Robin's slowly congealing come oozes down Talon's face.

"You're fucking heavy," the little Robin pants, its skin radiating warmth against Talon's ear.

Talon just smiles wider and runs its hands up the little Robin's sides, feeling it shiver beneath them.

"Cold?" Talon asks and leans forward to brush its lips against the little Robin's rosy skin.

The little Robin's breath hitches and its heart rate picks up, but it is not afraid. As if to demonstrate its lack of fear, it bends down to capture Talon's mouth with its own. This time, there is nothing hesitant and secretive about the little Robin's kiss.

It rakes its fingers through Talon's hair, raising pins and needles in their wake, and tugs at fistfuls of strands to tip Talon's head back the way it needs it. The little Robin's tongue is hot as it delves into Talon's mouth, sliding wetly against its own.

Talon cannot help the moan it elicits. It grabs the little Robin's behind through its cape and pulls it closer, grinding their hips together. The little Robin grins into the kiss and rocks against Talon, and Talon feels itself stir.

"Not anymore," the little Robin says between moans, its nose shiny with its own come.

"You're cute," Talon says, apropos of nothing.

"Fuck you." The little Robin scowls, thereby confirming just how adorable it is. "I was worried about you, you know. The way you and B went at each other, I thought I'd seen the last of you. I guess that's partially my fault, huh?" It strokes a gloved thumb over Talon's cheek. "I shouldn't have encouraged you."

Talon shakes its head. "My fault."

It had wanted to claim the little Robin for itself and got what it deserved. Talons are not supposed to want things. They are only supposed to please their masters.

"Fucking bullshit," the little Robin grins and stands up on wobbly legs, offering Talon a hand. "Come on, let's get you out of here and somewhere warm."

Talon takes the little Robin's gloved hand, disappointed by the layers of thread and fabric between them. It does feel more nimble than before, however, and is able to curl its legs beneath itself and put some weight on them, although not much. 

With the little Robin's help, Talon raises itself to the ledge of its crib. The little Robin stands in front of it, protective but unprotected.

Talon cannot help itself. It pounces.

The little Robin yelps as it crumples under Talon's weight. Talon smiles, feeling its warm little body squirm beneath it..

The joy does not last long. 

"Robin!" the Batman's voice echoes through Talon's nest and it feels something sharp embed itself beneath its shoulder.

Talon barely has the chance to register the intrusion when a shadow falls over them and Talon is lifted bodily out of its crib. The next instant, Talon whooshes through the air, away from its cute little Robin.

"Stop, B! What the fuck are you doing?" the little Robin demands. It comes running. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, go its feet on the marble floor.

"He attacked you."

"He did no such thing. Same as last fucking time." Through its spotty vision, Talon watches the little Robin kneel down next to it and touch it gently, oh so gently. Talon has never been touched with so much care before. "Why don't you ever fucking listen to me?"

"He's dangerous."

The little Robin scoffs. "So are you."

"That is not what I meant."

"Spare me the details, please, and help me with him." The little Robin hooks Talon's uninjured arm around its shoulders and tries to help it up. "You just gonna stand there or what?"

"Robin," the Batman says in a flat tone. "What are you doing?"

"What does it _look _like I'm doing? I'm not leaving him again."

"Robin, he's a cold-blooded killer. Not some kind of pet you lose interest in after a week or two."

"Like you're such a saint. You may say you don't kill, but you nearly cost him his life last time. You still owe me for that. So you can either help me get him out of here or leave us both, because I'm not going anywhere without him."

Tense silence stretches between them for so long that Talon thinks it must have fallen unconscious. Perhaps it did. It had hit its head hard against stone. Perhaps it is dreaming. It feels both heavy and light, like it is floating and not. Perhaps the dream is ending.

But the thing is: Talons do not dream.

So it is not a dream when Talon is carried out of its nest, blood trickling down its back and dripping off it, as if leaving a trail for its brethren to follow.

As if it were bleeding from the ties that have been cut.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Cold" by temposhark.
> 
> First time writing Talon. Not my first time writing yet another WIP I'll never finish. You're welcome. Please direct any and all complaints towards Kess, who keeps giving me ideas.


End file.
